


Aren't baths supposed to make you cleaner

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drowning kink, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 19:02:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew Dean, he was familiar with that bone deep ache for contact, even without a soul he needed, he needed so much he couldn’t put a voice to and it hurt like a constant itch that wore him so thin everything was like a sharp corner poking holes in his threadbare existence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aren't baths supposed to make you cleaner

Sam pressed Dean’s head down under the surface of the water, splashing up over the edge of the tub, it was hard to keep balance on the slick tile floor but the sopping wet bathmat helped at least a little. Sam couldn’t remember the last time they even did this, before Stanford he knew. For some reason he hadn’t wanted to, all those strings knotted up, all those memories seemed to bother him when he had a soul. But that wasn’t an issue now. 

He would push Dean down in the water so he couldn’t breath, till his brother wasn’t able to voice any protests when he was pulled back up over the tub, sobbing gasps desperately sucking down air. He knew Dean, he was familiar with that bone deep ache for contact, even without a soul he needed, he needed so much he couldn’t put a voice to and it hurt like a constant itch that wore him so thin everything was like a sharp corner poking holes in his threadbare existence. 

But this. He could do this. He knew every button to press, he knew the angles that punched out the breathless little gasps, he knew where to press and where to pull, because there was nothing in this godforsaken world he knew more than his brother. But Dean, calling him unnatural, that wasn’t really necessary was it. Saying he wasn’t really Sam. Of course he was, he was the Sam that Dean had always wanted him to be, wasn’t he, he was a good hunter, his instinct had never been so sharp, he was the Sam his father tried to make him be. So why would Dean pull away now? 

Murmuring against a neck wet with bathwater and salty with sweat, broad hands clamped down around the others hips holding him still, keeping him trapped between Sam and the cold porcelain tub, moving with stuttering desperation to recapture what they lost too many years ago and he knew was only faded and tattered like a polaroid now, but even though he couldn’t feel emotions like he used to, he could still want, the broad tan back in front of him all lined with hard muscles and faded scars, this, this was where he belonged. Quiet needy little ‘Sammy’s' and choked sobs, he couldn’t deal with that, didn’t want to, pushing Dean down harder, a firm hand at the back of his neck holding his brother under the water, the level getting so low from all the flailing it was hardly enough to surround and drown Dean’s head, but Sam trapped him there, pulsing hot and quick into him, his orgasm shuddering through him, a hand still grasped in the other’s short brown hair the free one snaking around to a very hard erection – Dean could say what he fucking wanted, Sam chose to believe this – jerking him off quickly till he felt Dean come in his hand.

Still pressed in his brother Sam pulled him up again, rough breaths drawn gasping, he knew how good it was to get a lungful of air after being denied, that’s what he meant, he wanted the warmth to spread through Dean, good and lazy after a nice fucking, his big hands stroking up hard thighs and the taut stomach and quivering chest, soothing, wasn’t that what it was supposed to be.

But Dean just pushed him away, stumbling up on shaky legs and mumbling curses under his breath, ‘forget the fucking bath’, ‘sammy’, ‘sonofabitch’, leaving Sam wet and sore kneeling in the dirty motel bathroom with the mildew in the grout and the crack in the porcelain sink, watching his brother close the door behind as he was left alone, again.


End file.
